Fellow seniors, school’s out for…spring break. Almost. Many of you are venturing to the notorious Playa del Carmen, Mexico’”home of all-night parties, tiny swim suits on too-tan bodies, hundreds of sweaty spring-breakers looking for a good time and little-to-no parental supervision. Fun.

There’s no doubt your trip to Mexico will be anything but insane. Good for you. Have fun. Get crazy. Just stop obsessing about it, please.

I’ve been hearing people talk incessantly about Playa since the day school started in August. And I’m sick of it. I don’t want to listen to you talk about your roommates at Sandos. Or how many minutes of tanning you bought. Or how you have a bikini for every color of the rainbow. Or how many exact days, hours, minutes and seconds are left until your plane takes off.

I don’t want to watch you eat apples and drink Diet Coke for lunch every day so you can fit into the smallest two-piece possible. I don’t care if you don’t know how much pesos are worth in American dollars. I don’t care if your chaperones will let you get away with anything. Congratulations. It’s not all that.

Or maybe it is. No matter how much I find myself mocking your no-carb diets or rolling my eyes at your relentless conversations about whether triangle tops, halters or bandeaus are cuter, there’s still a part of me that wants to be on that plane with you. I know I shouldn’t. I know it’s hypocritical. I know I’m not supposed to want to party in Mexico. But a part of me does.

The other part keeps thinking that almost everyone is staying at the same hotel, which means spring break ‘Ëœ11 is pretty much Kansas City with a beach, no parents and a drinking age of 18. That’s a recipe for success if I’ve ever heard one.

The purpose of a Mexican spring break is typically not to have a trip to remember, but a trip to be incapable of remembering the week after. Stories of downing tequila, taking body shots and drinking Coronas (with lime wedges, of course) have dominated the spring break scene. ‘I literally don’t remember anything from that vacation’ is something I’ve heard past seniors say after a wild spring break experience. Classy. I didn’t know that was the goal of a vacation.

Regardless of how many months have been spent planning, booking and constantly prepping for Playa, the entire month after spring break will consist of stories about day rages, Mexican clubs, drunken escapades and vomiting on the beach. Not to mention, a few students will inevitably suffer from eternal hangovers after a week in Playa.

Seniors, I don’t mean to take all my rage out on you. I know you may think I’m only so cynical because I’m not going on the unofficial class of 2011 vacation. I would love to party in Playa with Kansas City’s senior class, and although I’ll be in St. Petersburg laying on the beach, reading trashy magazines, it won’t be the same. With only a few more months at the Academy, I want to spend as much time with all of you as possible. I promise, my jealousy comes from love.

So, class of 2011 seniors, do me a favor. Have fun. Be safe. Make some memz. No regretz. Take some pics. Don’t forget about me while you’re there. Just don’t obsess about it when you get back. Okay? Thanks.